


In The Beginning

by Dragonwithatale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Angel Wings, Angst, Gen, I'd Say I'm Sorry but I'm not, much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10833153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonwithatale/pseuds/Dragonwithatale
Summary: This will eventually tie into another project.  As always, comments and flailings are appreciated!





	In The Beginning

_**The bright and Morning star has Fallen!** _

For a brief moment when Lucifer cracked open his eyes, he thought it was snowing. Flaky white and ashen grey drifted gently to the ground, settling, coating the dirt and stone and the back of his hand.

He blinked and exhaled.

_**Oh woe unto the Earth and all under Heaven -** _

The ends of broken bones slid against one another as the archangel breathed, a stuttering gasp of pain.

Tattered shreds of grace fanned under his skin, weak flickers trying to fix a body broken against hard earth. His fingers clawed in time to his heartbeat, each lull between bringing an ease to the pain. Slowly he picked himself up, one agonizing inch after the next, until he was kneeling in the crater he had made.

When he Fell.

_**Woe unto thee!** _

He tipped his face to the grey sky, ignoring the ash that settled on his eyelashes. His grace was piecing his vessel together again, but his wings hung heavy from his back. He could feel they were damaged; he could feel how the left wing drooped, how wrongly they shaped the air, how bare they were.

He knelt there for an age, waiting for the clouds to clear or break, for something to happen. Anything. Tears ran unknowingly down his face, mixing with the ash of charred feathers as he stared up at his home, the home he would never see again. Heaven was lost.

_**For now it is written,** _

The scream that ripped itself from his throat as he fought his way to his feet was inhuman. The vessel was in agony, but Lucifer’s heart…

The archangel stumbled forward over the broken earth. He’d done nothing wrong. He paid no attention to where his feet led him, away from the open sky and into the shadowed canopy of the trees. The chilly leaves of last autumn rustled as he wandered deep in the forest where Michael had… where Lucifer had Fallen.

He’d done nothing wrong…

_**Now and forever it is sealed:** _

The twilight sky lurked between the boughs overhead, grey as Michael’s wings and just as unforgiving. Lucifer couldn’t tell what season it was, or where he was. Earth was nothing like his garden in Heaven, the small plot of creation where he’d coaxed bright blooms and delicate fronds to take root. Where he’d played with Gabriel… where the young angels came to find solace from the endless orders and drills of Heaven’s army. The world that surrounded him was cold and wild and uncaring.  As it should be.

There were wounds his grace couldn’t heal. His wings trailed behind him as he wandered; he should have some goal, some destination, some purpose. He had been made of creation, of the space between sleeping and dreams, of hope and fear, of infinity and starfire; he was the barrier between the light and the Dark. What was there for him on Earth?

_**Never again shall there be peace.** _

A ribbon of scarlet flowers caught his attention in the distance; he trudged closer, drawn to the blossoms that climbed up several trees. The heady scent of roses filled the air.

Lucifer reached out an unsteady hand to touch one of the roses, fingers trailing across the petals and along the stem. It was beautiful; simple and graceful and… pure. There was so much of his Father’s light and delight woven into the fabric of the plant. So much care and thought in its creation.

A rustling behind Lucifer caught his attention; he turned only to be flung through the air, flying in a far different manner than he was used to and crashing again to the ground. Michael stepped lightly over to where Lucifer lay, his massive wings blocking out the half-light as he stood over his brother.

“How could you?” he asked in a low voice. Lucifer shifted, coughing.

“Michael…”

_**For blood has been shed in absence of wrong** _

The elder angel looked away for a moment, jaw clenched. “I didn’t want to believe, Luce. But this…”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t give me that shit, Luce.” Michael snapped. “I saw Gabriel’s blood all across… and the fledglings… I saw what was left.”

Lucifer closed his eyes, grief clawing at his heart. “It wasn’t me.”

Michael reached down, threaded his fingers through Lucifer’s hair, and yanked his brother up off the ground. “Your blade, you bastard.”

Lucifer shoved Michael away, rocking unsteadily on his own feet. “Get your head out of your ass, idiot. Our siblings are dead—“

“And you killed them!”

“— and you’re not even looking for who did it!”

“I’m looking at him!” Michael screamed, throwing Lucifer through the air with his grace.

Lucifer lay there, the breath knocked out of his body. He had done nothing wrong, but Michael would never listen. A single rose petal drifted down to settle next to his face. Michael’s frame blocked out the sky again, grey and grim.

_**And blood must be paid.** _

“Damn you, Lucifer,” he said softly.

Lucifer closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of roses.

“Father warned me that this might happen, you know that? Before he left. And I didn’t believe him.” Michael swallowed, and Lucifer could hear the tears in his voice. “I trusted you. That you wouldn’t give in to that thing clinging to your arm.”

There was a gentle rustle as Michael knelt next to Lucifer; he placed one hand firmly on his brother’s chest.

“You were supposed to shine brighter than the Darkness, Lucifer.”

Lucifer looked up at Michael, and the pain on his brother’s face ripped a hole in his heart. “Their blood is not on my hands.”

“No. It’s on mine.”

_**Oh woe to the children of God!** _

Words tripped lightly across Michael’s lips, a spell in a language Lucifer had never heard. He struggled, but Michael held him firmly to the ground. The world bent around them, and they were falling again, he was falling…

Nothing but darkness around. For a moment, Lucifer thought Michael had killed him.

He inhaled and screamed as the cold metal he was lying on bit into his skin. It was pulling the grace from his body, eating away at him. He shoved himself up and away and careened into metal bars. It was a cage.

“You have no idea how much I wish it hadn’t come to this,” Michael murmured from somewhere outside Lucifer’s new prison.

“Michael let me out!” Lucifer slammed his fists against the walls. “You bastard, just kill me already!”

“I hope I’ll never see you again, little brother. If I do, then…” the archangel’s voice trailed off. “I will kill you, Lucifer.” There was a rustle of wings and then silence.

And no one to hear Lucifer scream.

_**For now the end is written.** _

**Author's Note:**

> This will eventually tie into another project. As always, comments and flailings are appreciated!


End file.
